On a grey Sunday in September, windows still manage to let shafts of afternoon light into Hackney music venue EartH Kitchen. People dip in and out of the dancefloor as DJs play pulsing, amorphous dance music, while in the lounge area others cluster around tables to paint landscapes or self-portraits. This is Out of Body Pop, billed as “London’s first neuro-inclusive music event series”.
Neurodiverse is the umbrella term for a range of diagnoses and experiences, including but not limited to autism, ADHD, dyslexia and dyspraxia, and which often occur together – it’s estimated that one in seven people in the UK are neurodivergent. Out of Body Pop is part of a growing clutch of music events geared towards these audiences, many of whom find regular nights out difficult. My own experience as a music journalist with ADHD has been marked by festival meltdowns: sudden bursts of anger or tears after days of sensory and social overwhelm.
“For weeks before I go to a show, I will be stressed out about it and going over every single potential outcome,” says Marianne Eloise, a writer whose book Obsessive, Intrusive, Magical Thinking explores the convergence of autism, fandom and fixation. “Everything about it is overwhelming, no matter how many times I do it: travelling there, getting inside, standing around annoying people, finding a space, leaving. I hate every second of a show that isn’t the precise 90 minutes I am watching the band, but that time is so precious and feels so good that all the other bullshit is worth it.”
The aim of neuro-inclusive gigs is to reduce these obstacles, and let autistic fans and those with other neurodivergences access music spaces without such a physical and mental toll.
From dedicated events such as Out of Body Pop and Disco Neurotico to relaxed performances from the London Symphony Orchestra, and queer-centric events like Dalston Superstore’s Spectrum club night, the neuro-inclusive live music scene is as diverse as the people who make it. As charities like Stay Up Late campaign to increase nightlife access for autistic people and adults with learning disabilities, neurodivergent promoters are taking matters into their own hands, informed by lived experience and community research.
“In terms of my own neurodivergence, I feel like I experience things at quite a low level of intensity,” says Out of Body Pop creator Will Soer. “So part of Out of Body Pop is trying to create an environment where you can sink into something in various different ways” – hence the painting as well as dancing.
Accessibility for neurodivergent people often revolves around making spaces feel less overwhelming, and brands are taking notice. Take earplug manufacturers Loop: while their products were initially positioned as an aesthetically pleasing way to prevent hearing loss among concertgoers, recently the brand have made the neurodiversity angle explicit, with their Loop Engage 2 earplugs marketed as “earplugs for ADHD”.
However, many neurodivergent people actively seek out highly sensory experiences, finding comfort or joy through texture, sound or movement. When it comes to music we might be fans of black metal, EDM or the looping rhythm of shoegaze; anything you can lose yourself in. Live, the music and the crowd can block out other mental input and positively overwhelm the senses, leaving little space for the looping, intrusive thoughts neurodivergent minds can be so prone to. “I do also enjoy a pop show and have seen a ton of pop girlies live, but there is nothing like a rock show,” says Eloise. “Something about the chaos, the wall of sound, the bodies crashing into each other – it doesn’t really leave room for getting irritated or overwhelmed. Most of the time.”
But even sensory-seekers may still feel overwhelmed at gigs, fuelled by other difficulties with things such as crowds, expectations and emotional regulation, so the challenge for promoters is how to best serve these often conflicting needs. Disco Neurotico, a reimagined rave series that puts on events for neurodivergent and anxious clubbers across England, are now looking to implement “chaos rooms”: spaces filled with soft-play structures, drum’n’bass and strobe lighting, which will provide a safe environment for sensory-seeking punters.
“It’ll be designed in a way that’ll be very hard to hurt yourself or anybody else,” says founder Byron Vincent. “So you can go and bounce around to your heart’s content without causing anxiety to people who definitely don’t want that, because there’ll be separate spaces.”
In a landscape of such diverse needs, the broader the offering the better – it’s almost impossible for individual events to accommodate all attendees, no matter their intentions. At EartH Kitchen for Out of Body Pop, for example, punters enter directly into the gig space. The volume can be overwhelming, and even in the more relaxed lounge area the sound level is more or less the same as the bar. However, other measures – such as the reduced audience size, the art provision and a good re-entry policy – mean that Out of Body Pop remains a more accessible alternative for many.
And when their needs are met, the impact on neurodiverse people is palpable, as Florence Little of Stay Up Late explains: “The reason we focus on a good night out is because it contains some of the most important things in life: music, friendship, opportunity, freedom.”
Back at Out of Body Pop, singer, songwriter and producer Kindness begins their headline DJ set. As they open with a gentle mix of Todd Rundgren’s Hodja, dancers fill the space in front of the stage. The light outside is fading and hands are raised in the air, everyone given the space to be in full flow.
